Recovery
by CaitlinWalker
Summary: Having been dead for so long, Annie faces a whole new battle to become Annie Walker again. Meanwhile, one of the agency's most decorated women, new mother Joan discovers motherhood is a new challenge altogether. My take on Season 5.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! This is my second attempt at an S5 Fic and is based heavily on the first proper promo we've got for what should be an epic season 5. As always I do not own this wonderful show and full credit therefore must go to the superb cast and crew who do. And, again, as always, thank you for reading and all reviews, follows and favourites are greatly appreciated and loved! Thank you.**

**#**

_A bright spot in a dark world._

Four months ago, Joan Campbell would have laughed at that particular phrase and have called it a terrible cliché. That was not to say that she had never considered a child to be anything but a blessing. Her surprise pregnancy and her subsequent son, Mackenzie Campbell was not just a blessing; he was a miracle that she had long thought would never happen. He was a bright spot, a glowing beacon of joy, innocence and hope. It was simply that she could never imagined how that little boy, the little boy her and her husband had been trying for for as long as they could remember, the little boy who had his daddy's dark hair and his mommy's dimples, ten little fingers and ten little toes as well as an already bubbly personality that neither Joan or Arthur could wait to watch develop as he grew into a young man, could change everything and suddenly make their lives, and the murky world in which they lived, so much better.

Cuddling him in his arms, as he happily babbled back at her with the widest smile on his little face made her forget about the crap that went on in the world. Letting him tug on a loose strand of her hair not only made her smile and her heart warm but also made the fact that Anne Catherine Walker, her protégée and, most importantly, her friend, who had been off the grid for four months since she returned to American soil, a little easier to deal with. In fact, it had been almost four months to the day that Joan had last seen her, as the young operative had paid a brief but welcome visit to the hospital to meet the new arrival, who had unfortunately been fast asleep in his cot for the entire duration of Annie's trip, and nobody had the heart to even think about waking him.

"_I need some time."_

That was all that Annie said when Joan had asked her about her next steps and she respected the response. After everything that had happened, both in Hong Kong and the weeks and months leading up to the slaying of the dragon that was Henry Wilcox, it was perfectly understandable that Annie needed a break from it all. A break to recharge batteries, rewind and simply relax. Going dark would have been tough enough without all the deaths that had occurred along the way. Yet Annie's definition of time had been sixteen weeks and counting, without a single word to anyone – Auggie had been keeping Joan informed and to the best of his knowledge, Annie was yet to make any real form of communication with the agency either. Annie could look after herself damn fine physically, there were no doubts about that. That was not what lingered on Joan's mind and worried her.

"Hey you two." Although unexpected, Arthur's voice that came from behind her was soft enough to startle neither her or Mac who she was bouncing in her arms.

"Hey," she managed to tear her attention away from her son long enough to smile at her husband and meet his lips. "How was therapy?"

"Fantastic," he grinned, leaning over the back of the sofa to tickle his son's chin. "Doc says my full range of motion is back. Yet, obviously, he wants to get his full money's worth and wants me to go in for a final session next week. But who cares. I'm as good as gold again. That's all that matters…well, that and you two."

Joan smile's grew, loving how Mac's face never failed to light up at the sight of his father. "As you said, that's fantastic."

"it is indeed," Arthur nodded, not masking his joy. "What time do they want you at Langley? You want me to take Mac so you can go and get ready?"

"I…I cancelled."

"You cancelled?"

"Yeah, I…I didn't feel the greatest when I woke up this morning so I called the committee when you were out. I didn't want to go and have to rush to the bathroom to throw up. I've been there before and it's not pretty."

Arthur rested a hand on her shoulder. "You never said."

"Sorry…I didn't want to worry you."

Fingers gently kneading her shoulder, hitting the right tired spots, he chuckled. "Honey, I'm your husband which means it's my job to worry about you."

"Still-."

"Still nothing. You're my wife and the mother of my beautiful boy. Let me worry." He kissed the top of her head. "How are you feeling now, sweetheart?"

"Better. To use your own words, _fantastic_, now that you're home."

"Good. I'm glad." Another kiss and just like it, he lingered. Joan wondered if he bought it. Regardless if he bought it or not, she knew that he wouldn't press her into going to the first of many committee hearings to decide upon the DCS position, a position she once held until she was ousted from it. Calder had been holding the fort down as interim DCS and was the only other candidate for the position alongside her. She had the advantage, with glowing references and experience that Michaels could simply not match. Still, there was a lot more to it than just that. "You still look a little tired though. Some rest wouldn't hurt."

"It wouldn't, no." She pried her hair free from Mac's balled fist. "You wanna see daddy? Daddy's home," she whispered, close enough to her boy that their noses touched before she passed him across to daddy with a smile that only widened as Arthur held his son.

"Atta boy. You been good for your mommy?"

"The best," Joan answered for him. "Little angel."

"Like his momma, eh?" Arthur laughed as the ever curious child grabbed his nose. "Hey mister, that's mine…hey…what happened to the angel?"

Moments like these were why her life had never been better. She could watch the two of them for the rest of her life and never, ever even begin to get bored. It had taken a while for Arthur to heal from his injuries enough to be able to hold his child and the wait had been more than worth it. The first time, three weeks after Arthur had been attacked in the stables and nearly lost his life, he had held his son, she had watched on with tears in her eyes. It was moments like these that she never wanted to miss…it was moments like these that made her very reluctant to go back to work.

Moments like these had made her exaggerate that very slight tickle at the back of her throat and call in sick this morning.

# # #

Every morning had been the same. She woke up when her body dictated, not at a set time dictated by an alarm clock and certainly not at those times she woke, drenched in her own sweat when dark still crept in from the opened and damaged blinds of her rented bedsit that she had dug into her funds she had once had the wisdom to start saving, to pay for. Then, she'd go for a walk or a run, depending on what she felt like then it was back home. Home to weigh up a cell phone in her hand and decide if today was the day.

Every morning had been the same and it had not been the day.

Except today…today, sixteen weeks to the day she had gotten away from it all, had been the day when she had decided to face the world she had wanted to hide from. Picking up her cell, Annie Walker called the only person she felt had her back. Someone who wasn't in this game for their own personal gain. Someone who wouldn't betray her and jump into bed with someone else the second that she had done what she had needed to do. Someone who had her back and had always had her back.

It wasn't Calder she called.

It wasn't Auggie either.

And with shaking hands she keyed in the number of the one person she knew she could definitely count on. "Joan…Joan, it's Annie…I need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thank y'all for all the reviews, favourites and follows! They're all very much appreciated. You guys are the greatest!**

**#**

Joan wished that she could say it was good to hear Annie's voice; but it wasn't. It wasn't the same. Years of experience of knowing how to read people and, most importantly, a couple of years of being blessed to know Anne Catherine Walker and also being fortunate enough to call the girl a true friend in a world full of backstabbers and bureaucrats, told her that something was up. Wrong even, way before Annie had even said the words need or help. "Anything, Annie. What's the matter?"

Hesitancy laced each word and she stuttered as if she regretted picking up the phone to call in the first place. "N-Not…not over the phone."

"OK," Joan nodded. "Where?"

More hesitancy, a prolonged pause that Joan doubted was used for consideration. _Definitely regretting this call_. "I-I don't know."

"What about mine?" Joan's mind wasn't running by instinct as her suggestion almost immediately followed Annie's response; it was fuelled by her heart. "You can even come now if you want."

"Is…is that OK? I mean with the baby and, and Arthur? Shit…I'm sorry, I should have asked. How is he? How's Mackenzie?"

Joan smiled, just as she always found herself doing at the mention of her now healthy husband and her beautiful baby boy. "Arthur's good and Mac's," Her smile grew that little bit wider. "Mac's a little wonder." _An angel; a heady cocktail of love and bliss. The missing puzzle piece that took ages in finding_. "I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise. Is it OK with you? Arthur will be in but if you don't want him to be, I'm positive that he'll be more than happy to take Mac out somewhere."

Another pause came from the other end of the line. "I don't want to be a problem…"

"You're not. Arthur loves taking Mac out; you'd just be giving him an excuse to."

"If, if you're sure-."

"I'm sure," Joan said, a little bit of firmness behind her response to help get the message through.

It seemed to work. "Thank you, Joan."

"After what you've done for us, this is nothing," Joan said, meaning every single word in regards to the debt she was sure she'd never be able to repay. Screw the whole rhetoric that Annie had just done her job; she'd done a hell of a lot more, broken nearly every rule in the agency handbook as she took the biggest risk in her life that, thankfully, paid off. "I'll see you later. Oh, and Annie?"

"Yeah?"

"It'll be good to see you again. I'll see you soon," she added before hanging up, placing her cell down on the coffee table and got up, ready to go and join Arthur and Mac in the nursery. She nearly jumped finding Arthur standing in the archway to the living room.

"Sorry," he grimaced; genuinely looking so before he waved the stuffed bear he held in his hand. "I dropped Mr Fuzzyboots as I was taking Mac upstairs, I didn't mean to pry."

"Well, you still very nearly gave me a heart attack there mister, well done," she said, placing a hand on her chest, finding her heart slowly beginning to calm down after that sudden spike in its rhythm.

Arthur came over and placed the bear, which had once been called Barry and had once belonged to a young Joan Mackenzie, on the back of the sofa as he gently took hold of her waist. "I'm really sorry, honey. But you know what our son's like without Mr Fuzzyboots, I had to go and get him. He doesn't like Tigger as much as he does Mr Fuzzyboots."

"I really wonder what that boy has against Tigger… I told you, we should have gotten him Winnie instead." _But no_. Arthur had opted for Tigger and she'd been more than happy to oblige that day in their first outing to the local toy store, captivated by the way Mac himself was entranced by all the exciting new colours and sounds around him. For someone as strong-willed as she liked to consider herself to be, when it came to her child, she was a total pushover. They'd only went to the store to pick out a new stuffed companion for him – they'd left with three, a new mobile and a series of pop-up books that she found herself strangely excited to read to him.

"Yeah, I think that we should have too," Arthur laughed before letting a few seconds elapse before addressing the elephant that had suddenly came into the room after four months of hiding. "I heard right, yeah? That was Annie?"

"It was. She wants to meet."

"Here?"

Joan nodded. "I thought it would be best…I don't think she has anywhere else to be honest. I asked her if she wanted to meet, just me and her-."

"I heard that too. Perfectly fine with us two."

"You haven't asked him yet," she grinned.

"Yeah but he loves his daddy. I'm pretty sure he's on board with a little trip somewhere," he said, the biggest smile on his face as he slid his hands down to the small of her back, his thumbs rubbing small circles. "Stop worrying about her."

"I'm-."

"Not?" Arthur chuckled. "Honey, I've been married to you for nearly ten wonderful years; there's no point in denying it. But don't worry, OK? I know she's been on your mind for the past few months and I understand, I truly do, yet there's no need. The fact that she contacted you, the fact that she wants to meet? You don't need me to tell you that's a big step for the girl – especially after what she's been through."

Joan could not dispute that. _Yet_… "She said she needs my help."

Forehead crumpling, his deep blue eyes narrowed. "With what?"

She shrugged slightly, careful not to shrug off his touch, loving it. "I don't know…I haven't a clue what's going on and, honestly? I'm not so sure Annie does either." Another shrug and this time, she purposely broke free from her husband. "You're right…I shouldn't worry about this. I don't know when Annie's getting here, I don't even know where she's actually coming from, but I should make up some bottles just in case the little guy gets hungry when he's with daddy. Where'd you say you were taking him?"

"I didn't," Arthur replied, rubbing his jaw. "Obviously I hadn't anything planned, I mean I just found out about it, literally a minute ago…any suggestions?"

Joan brushed past him as she reached for her cardigan. "As long as it's not on the no go list, then it's good with me. Oh, and for the time being, that toy shop is on that no go list. I'm beginning to fear the day will come when we've got to live out in the garden because of all those stuffed toys."

"Noted," Arthur nodded as Tommy's Toys joined Langley – which they'd unanimously made the decision to keep their boy from, even before he had arrived in this world-, the duck pond – a temporary spot holder on the list as Mac had been terrified by squawking geese the other day on what should have been a happy and harmless trip to feed the ducks– and also the zoo – that was on the list until Mac's first birthday, the family day out for the special occasion already planned out. "How about I take him into town?"

Joan nodded, smiling. "Sounds good. But you're aware that I'm aware that you two will no doubt end up wreaking havoc in that department store?"

"Painfully," he grinned.

"OK, but, for heaven's sake, be good. One toy only, Arthur or we'll be living out in that garden come spring."

Arthur chuckled. "I promise."

# # #

The last time she'd been in the Campbell residence, there had been no reference to the impending arrival that'd be called Mackenzie Campbell bar a well-thumbed baby book, a couple of basic leaflets and a printout of a four month scan that Arthur had proudly shown off as he nursed both a swollen temple and damaged pride from a powerful right hook from Auggie. Now, it was a near impossible task to find any reference to a life before Mackenzie Campbell what with toys, tiny little outfits and photos everywhere in the living room. It warmed Annie's heart to see the pride etched on the new mother's face every time her son was mentioned or she talked about him. It was refreshing, after four months, to see the other side of life. _The brighter side._

"I still remember when Chloe and Katia were little...you know how you hear all the crap about them growing up too fast? It's true." Her heart ached. They'd be twelve and ten now; she hadn't seen them for the best part of a year.

"I'm starting to realize that. Man, that boy goes through baby grows. He only ever seems to be able to wear them about once before we need to get him bigger ones."

Chloe and Katia had been the same too; it drove Danielle crazy. Crazy to the extent that her slightly eccentric sister had threatened to cut leg and arm holes into pillow cases as a cost-cutting measure. If she had even an ounce of talent with a needle or a sewing machine, Annie's nieces would have indeed been wearing pillow cases until they stopped growing.

"Hey," Joan's cautious tone cut through Annie's thoughts. "Annie, listen to me. You will be able to see your sister and your nieces again, I promise you. It'll just take a little time."

Annie looked up the loose bit of skin on her thumb that she'd been picking at. "What if they don't want to see me though?"

"They will," Joan smiled. "You told me that you told Danielle about the agency-."

"Yes but the agency also told her that I was dead."

"She'll come round, Annie."

"I wouldn't. And what about Chloe and Katia? Aunt Annie is dead, Joan. I can't just walk back into their lives."

Joan smiled; the mother in her shining through as she placed a hand on top of Annie's the second Annie's relentless picking drew blood. "I didn't say that you could. I said that it'll take time but she will come round. Is…is that what you wanted help with?" She asked, her eyes narrowing.

"No…" Annie shook her head. "No…it's not."

"Alright but if you want help, advice, whatever about approaching your family, you know where I am."

Managing a smile, she looked the woman who had always been more than approachable herself, in the eyes. "Thank you…you don't know how much…how much that means to me."

"I mean it, Annie. I'm always here for you. Now this, whatever it is that you want to talk about? That won't change that. You didn't come here for small talk. What do you need help with?"

A few moments passed as she tried to figure out the right way to say something that she'd been thinking about for weeks upon weeks. "I-I…I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

_Time to stop hiding. Time to face the dark, murky world that she had been hiding from. Time to come back from the dead._ "Time to go back."

# # #

Four months of physical therapy had been gruelling. The pain, often worse than the actual stabbing that had nearly claimed his life, during the first month had messed up his sleeping pattern worse than his new-born son had. The hours spent in the top of the range gym he went to for his sessions, had been the longest of his life, wondering as he was put through routines that varied greatly from week to week, just what he may be missing at home, the thought of precious moments that he might may miss, such as lullabies sang by his wife or even just one of many smiles from his boy, breaking his heart. Yet that had been then and this, pushing an empty buggy with one hand as his other was occupied in carrying his son, was the now that'd made those four months absolutely worth it.

"What about this one?" Arthur watched with a smile as Mac gazed intently at the card his daddy was holding. "You think mommy will like it? Yeah?" He was convinced that his boy gave the slightest of nods and he duly placed the card in the basket that he'd cleverly hooked onto the handles of the buggy, and began heading in the direction of the checkouts. "Just you wait and see the big smile on mommy's face when we surprise her. Yes, daddy's a sap. I know it, you know it and, by God, mommy knows it. But it's why you love daddy right? Right?" Chuckling, he kissed his son's cheek before looking in the direction Mac was staring, his tiny eyes fixed on a stuffed giraffe that must be at least three feet tall. _And would look right at home in the nursery. _

Sighing, he carefully placed the precious cargo that was his boy back into the buggy, checking and double checking that he was secure and happy before he used his now free hand to grab the giraffe his son had been so fixated by.

"Your mother's going to kill me, you know that? We already broke the bear quota as it is without this guy." _Maybe he should turn back and grab that box of chocolates he'd been deciding whether or not to buy her alongside her other gift._ Hell, there was no maybe about it and he awkwardly turned a hundred and eighty degrees with buggy and giraffe to grab it before heading to the checkouts, paying and then leaving. His watch told him that it'd only been a little over an hour since he'd left and Annie hadn't even arrived by his departure. It was surely too early to head home, not wishing to intrude, especially on Annie – some privacy with his wife was the least the operative deserved after everything. So he headed to the coffee shop desperate to take the weight of his feet and grab a cup of Joe.

The sight of Arthur taking a bite of his cookie seemingly made Mac realize he too was hungry.

"Like father, like son indeed."

Strangely enough that had was exactly what Arthur had been thinking just moments before it was vocalised out loud by a voice that he vaguely recognised. He looked up, not just surprised by the uncanniness of the sentiment being echoed just moments after thinking it, but also surprised at who actually echoed it. "Calder?"

"Indeed it is," Calder smirked before the smirk softened into a smile. "And this must be little Mackenzie."

Proud as he'd always be of his kid, Arthur smiled. "Yep. He'd say hi back but he's kinda a bit busy at the moment," he chuckled, nodding at the bottle. "It's a small world, don't you think?"

"Or just a small federal distract with very few decent coffee shops," Calder remarked and then glanced across at the giraffe that occupied a whole seat. "Sorry, I didn't know you had company."

"Yeah, Joan doesn't either," Arthur chuckled, his best brave front he could manage as every time he looked at that damn stuffed animal, it seemed bigger.

"Is Joan not here?"

"No. She's at home with…with a friend." Calder didn't need to know. If Annie hadn't gotten in touch with Calder Michaels, then that was her business, not Arthur's. He'd only met Calder briefly, through the hearings that tied up the whole Wilcox mess and, honestly he hadn't yet formed a proper opinion on the guys, never mind begun to decide whether or not he trusted him.

"I see. Well, be sure to pass on my congratulations to her on such having such a cute little kid. Oh, and tell her, that even though I'm perfectly fine with still running the show back at Langley, the committee is not. There's rumblings that they're not happy with all these postponements. What I'm hearing is that they want to have things finalized by the end of next week."

"Ten days? That's sudden."

"Sudden? They had hoped to have had the interviews and polygraphs concluded by last week. Theoretically, we could have had a DCS fully installed by now."

"I…don't understand?" Because he didn't. Hell, Arthur didn't even know where to begin.

"It's simple enough. Your wife's enjoying maternity leave too much," Calder said bluntly before his phone started ringing. Seeing the caller ID, he looked back up at Arthur. "I've got to take this. It was good to see you again and meet your little guy. Pass on my regards to Joan."

"Will do," Arthur said more or less to himself as Calder made a sharp exit, the phone already pressed to his ear. _Ten days? Last week?_ The self-proclaimed sheriff's words rang loudly in Arthur's ears but they didn't make any sense. Calder, on paper, had no real agenda. In fact, he'd just explicitly encouraged his sole rival for the DCS position to get a move on. Yet Joan…Joan hadn't said a word about any looming deadlines, or the process starting, seemingly weeks ago. She'd felt sick this morning, that was what she had told him as to why she hadn't gone in, to what she had told him was the first day of committee meetings and Arthur had never any reason to doubt her. She'd worked her ass off for the past fifteen years or so to become the first ever female Director of Clandestine Services and had been proud to become so – and also equally as pissed when she'd been removed by power. What Calder said was…s_trange_.

His own phone buzzed on the glass table beside his cup of coffee that was growing colder by the increasing number of seconds it lay untouched. Waiting for Mac to finish, he gently took the bottle from the four month old, kissed the top of his head before he reached for his cell, finding a message from the woman in question.

_Annie's gone and this house feels empty without my boys. Home soon? Love you two. X_

Arthur smiled and replied.

_We don't want mommy to feel lonely. On our way already. Love you more. X (Ps we've got a surprise for you)_

His phone buzzed again before he even had time to gather up his things and put Mac back in his buggy.

_One bear was your limit, Arthur. Love you times infinity. X_

That giraffe now looked a whole foot taller than it did in the shop.

_Please remember just how much you love me when I get home. Love you. X_


	3. Chapter 3

The curtains twitched as his BMV purred up the drive and the door had thankfully opened by the time he unfastened his boy from the child seat and he was able to pass over the happy babbling baby into Joan's welcome arms with a kiss and a smile before he crawled back into the back seat, unfastened the giraffe – whom was now called Gary and whom had also been wearing a seat belt for practicality reasons – and brought him out to a much different reaction from his wife.

"What. Is. That?"

The smartass reply would be to point out that it was a giraffe. The smart answer would be to say that Mac wanted it because he already had mommy tightly wrapped around his tiny finger. The dumb answer would be to completely skip Joan's question and ask his own, that one that had been eating away at him ever since he'd bumped into Calder – just what was happening? He chose the smart answer, knowing that option one would result in a glare and option three could, and would, be brought up at some point but just later. "His little eyes light up and I just couldn't say no to the kid."

Not that he hadn't expected it, but the way his wife had so naturally taken to motherhood never failed to make him smile – particularly because he thought his chance of seeing it had long gone. He thanked God that it hadn't; thanked God for their little miracle. Her eyes from him to her son whom she was bouncing in her arm. "Is daddy telling the truth, huh?" She nodded as, on cue, the giraffe whom Arthur was holding by the scruff of the neck, set Mac off into another fit of happy gurgles. "Guess daddy is," she smiled before turning back to Arthur. "But that does not mean you're off the hook mister. I know for a fact that you bought him more and I was being completely and utterly serious earlier. We will be kicked out of our home by stuffed bears at this rate."

"I only got him two other ones, I promise," Arthur grinned. "And I, or should that be _we_, got mommy a little something."

"You shouldn't have…"

"But we did because we love mommy, don't we Mac? And I," his voice caught and he found it dropping a few octaves. "And I, I haven't properly thanked you for these past few…well frankly, these past few weird, crazy wonderful months. Honestly…honestly I keep finding myself thinking, wondering, what the hell I'd do without you and I honestly don't know. So, yeah. I should have – you deserve it." Meeting her eyes was a mistake; her watery pools that looked back at him before he quickly inspected his scuffed trainers, choked him even more. "C'mon. You take Mac inside before he catches a chill and I'll grab everything from here and join you two in a few minutes, OK?"

# # #

"Four months off the grid and suddenly she wants to meet? Why alone? Why now?"

The last time Auggie had seen Annie had been in Hong Kong – four months ago. Truthfully, he didn't know the answer; he could only offer his best guess. "She doesn't want us to know where she's coming from. Given the sacrifices she's made, that's understandable." _Understandable. That was all he could do, try to understand. _He thought he knew Annie yet her lack of communication had said otherwise. No phone calls, not even a text. Things could have ended better between them – that Auggie could admit – but before they were together, they had been friends. Good friends. Best friends. Now? Nothing. In her call to Calder, Annie had specifically told Calder that it was him and only him she wanted to meet. She had specifically requested that Auggie was not there. Calder had only told Auggie as he bumped into him on his way back into Langley.

"I don't know, Anderson…but I will find out."

"Are you meeting her right now?"

"Yeah."

That was sudden. Very sudden. Nothing for four months and straight out of the blue, she wanted to meet now. "OK…OK, let me know how it goes."

"I will if I can. I understand you and Annie have history but if Annie wants confidentially, it's the least she deserves after everything," Calder said, patting Auggie's arm. "I'll catch you later."

"Yeah…" Auggie stopped in the middle of the hallway as he heard Calder exit through a door, confused as hell about what was happening. As much as hearing from Annie meant that he could stop worrying about her well-being, he was now worrying about her for another reason altogether. He was worrying about what this meant for him and her…for _them_. "Later."

# # #

Despite feeling like she'd both read and owned nearly every baby book in publication, her baby boy never failed to surprise her. One minute he was babbling happily as she smothered him with kisses as they waited for daddy to return from the car, the next and coincidentally the minute daddy came in, he was zonked out in her arms, his little head resting against her shoulder. As much as it pained her that there'd be no bedtime story tonight – tonight, was her turn to read and she was finally about to get around to the nursery rhymes she'd banned Arthur from reading to their son because, and she'd happily admit it, she wanted to read them to him – it meant that she had some alone time with her husband, something that had been rare even in the years before the birth of their child.

"Did we really make him?"

Arthur nodded against her shoulder that he had his head rested on. "We did."

Not taking her eyes off of little Mackenzie, she gently stroked the boy's head, her fingers brushing the few strands of hair that were there. "How?"

"_How_?" She could hear the smile in Arthur's voice. "I think you know the answer to that one, honey."

"Yeah, you can save 'the talk for him'," she said, smiling along with him before returning to smiling for her earlier reason – her son. "He's just so…so perfect. And real."

"He felt real enough when you nearly broke my good arm in that delivery room."

"Try having a baby instead."

"No. No, no, no. Us guys? We're wimps. Women? _You?_" His hold around her waist tightened as he held her tighter, closer. "You're brave…strong…extraordinary. And you've been my rock," his lips pressed down and lingered on her neck. "Now…if this is none of my business or I've gotten the wrong end of the stick, then tell me. But I bumped into Calder today."

Breaking free from his arms, she shook her head. "No. Not-."

"At all? I completely understand."

"No…" As much as she wished it was _not at all _it was something she, unfortunately, couldn't avoid. In fact, she was surprised she had gotten away with not a word until now. There were some true assholes within the CIA but sometimes even they could sympathise with a new mother who'd been through hell and back in recent months and the process to decide the new the DCS had been delayed much longer than the higher ups would have normally liked. "I mean not in front of our son. It doesn't feel right."

Arthur nodded and led her out of the nursery, grabbing a baby monitor as he did, leading her downstairs and to the leather sofa. She smiled at the gift bag and envelope that was on the coffee table.

"For me?"

He grinned. "Yep. Just to say thank you."

Cupping both his cheeks, her kiss was lingering as was her gaze into his eyes before she turned to the table, opening the card that was from both her husband and her son – a simple 'Thank You' card that Arthur apologised for as they didn't have a 'Thank You For Looking After Your Husband Whom Had Been Stabbed Whilst Also Being The Best Mother A Baby Boy Could Ask For' card in stock. The card was more than enough, the sweet thank you note inside making her day, if not, year. The box of chocolates was a lovely touch and the beautiful diamond necklace, which Arthur took great pleasure in helping her put on, was way too much. Yet it was still a wonderful sentiment from a wonderful man.

Then, after Arthur had nipped to the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses, which he filled, it was back down what had seemed to be eating at him. "So I saw Calder today – yeah, it's a small federal district because I mean the chances, you know?"

"True…what did he want?"

"Well, firstly he wanted me to pass on his congratulations for having a handsome son and an equally handsome husband."

She smiled, taking a sip of her wine. "Yeah, I'm a lucky girl, aren't I?"

Arthur laughed. "Very. And he also said something about the whole committee thing? I don't know, after all, I'm not in the agency anymore so I don't have a clue what's going on but he said something about the committee wanting to make their decision by next week. Calder also said something about postponements?"

"Yeah…I wanted to make the most of my maternity leave. That'll be what he, and the committee means."

"Right…" Arthur said, studying his wine glass. "Right. I don't know it was just the way he said it…hell, I barely know the guy, what am I saying?"

She chuckled. "I ask myself that every time you speak."

"Charming," he grinned before he took a big gulp from his glass. "So you're going in tomorrow, yeah?

She nodded. "Yep. But," she reached forward and took the glass from his hand. "As you said, that's tomorrow. Tonight? We've got some rare alone time. No work talk please."

"Sorry," Arthur shook his head. "You're right. What about a movie instead? And cuddles on the couch?"

"Much, much better."

# # #

Annie Walker had changed. She was back to blonde. She had swapped the Louboutins for a pair of scuffed sneakers. And there was something, something else Calder couldn't put his finger on, but it was there.

"I want to come back to the agency."

Calder nodded and sat in the chair facing Annie in the coffee shop she had picked out for their meet. "And we'd be happy to have you back."

"But not the DPD. Not even Langley."

"Right…you want to be stationed somewhere? I still have my contacts in Colombia, that shouldn't be too much of a problem. But, of course, you still have to go through the formalities back at Langley before we can even think about placing you somewhere."

"I don't care…I'll do whatever but I just can't stay there. I need a fresh start. If you have contacts in Colombia, send me there."

That was it. The change that Calder couldn't quite put his finger on – Annie Walker finally had a spine; she wasn't spineless anymore. He nodded. "I'll get on it. Colombia, yeah?"

Annie nodded. "Why the hell not?"

# # #

Mac was lying on his mother's side of the bed; pillows to his right and his still sleepy father to his left. It had been a long night, perhaps the worst night they had as a family. One-thirteen had been when their sleep had been cut short by a piercing cry and a repetitive two hours of taking turns to go tend to their son in the nursery had ended in Joan caving and bringing their child back to their own bed for cuddles in a desperate attempt to soothe him and an even more desperate attempt for their own sleep. Yet Mac had had other ideas, deciding that he wanted to be up before the sun and the birds outside were, and his parents could do little when the boy's mind was made up.

Arthur felt for Joan. He remembered the process to become Director of Clandestine Services all too well and the meeting with the committee had been long and boring enough and that had been from going straight from one position to the next. But committee meetings with a family waiting for you at home, running on only a few hours of decent sleep and going into Langley after a four month absence? He wasn't sure that he could do that himself. But Joan would. Joan would go, sit through meetings after meetings, make her own presentation to a board of senators and, maybe even be polygraphed in the same day and come back home like it was all nothing.

He truly meant it when he said that she was extraordinary.

_Talking of Joan…_

"Hey boy," he whispered as he picked up his growing son in his arms, getting to his feet and making a journey he had made at least five times in the pitch black last night, through to the nursery. "Hope you don't mind if I leave you for a little bit. No, no," he chuckled as incredibly strong fingers clamped around his nose as he leaned into the crib which he had just placed Mac in. Tenderly prying himself free, he smiled. "I'll play with you in a little while, OK? If you need anything," he nodded over to the baby monitor. "Just cry – something, that after last night, I'm pretty sure you're an expert at."

The smile from laughing at his own joke, faded the second his bare foot touched the soft cream carpet of the hallway. Padding along he stopped at the shut bathroom door and knocked.

"Sweetheart, you OK in there? You've been in there a while."

No response; his heart rate began to quicken.

"Joan?"

Nothing was heard except the sound of his own heart that was starting to thud in his chest.

"I'm gonna come in now. If you object, feel free to slam this door in my face." Waiting a few more moments, he opened the door and found that it was not going to be slammed back in the face. He also found his wife standing in front of the bathroom mirror, showered with her hair in a towel and in her dressing gown. "Hey…hey, honey. _Honey_," he said, hoping and initially believing that at least one of his words, now that he was standing beside her, would have caught her attention and make her turn round and flash that smile that had made him fall even harder than he already had for her, when he first saw it all those years ago.

But all four words fell on deaf ears. Joan didn't smile; she didn't even react, just continued to stare into the bathroom mirror. Arthur knew those eyes well enough to know the difference between early morning haziness and sad mistiness.

"Sweetheart." This time he gently took hold of her waist and turned her to face him, yet she didn't meet his gaze. "What's the matter?"

Looking down at her own bare feet, she took a few moments before she, predictably, dodged the question. "Where's Mac? Is he OK?"

"He is," Arthur smiled. "After last night, he must be due a nap anytime soon so I placed him back in his crib."

"Good," Joan nodded slowly. "Good."

With one finger, he tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. "What about you? Are you OK?"

"I-I…"

"Baby, you're upset and I hate seeing you like this. What's wrong?"

This time there wasn't even any stuttering. She just tailed off altogether after a sole letter. "I…"

His hands slipped from her waist as he took hold of hers and he smiled as best as he could, even though what he had said was true. He hated this. "What's the matter?"

"I'm…" She shook her head. "I'm a mess, Arthur. Look at me."

But he was and he saw absolutely nothing wrong except the fact his strong, brave and beautiful wife was trying her best to hold it together but failing miserably, those strong dams full with tears and close to bursting. "I'm looking and, quite honestly, I'm not getting what you're getting at."

"Stop lying."

"I swear on my life that I'm not lying."

Then those damn broke as she did, collapsing into his arms; her tears penetrating his baggy v neck that he had slept in.

"Sweetheart," he whispered as he rubbed his thumb softly against her spine. "Sweetheart, listen to me…please."

However, she didn't and her body shook as she sobbed. Unsure of what to do, completely caught off guard by this, whatever this was, he let her ride the sudden wave of emotion out in his arms before he gently pried her off his chest. He wiped away fresh tears with his thumb.

"Joan-."

"You still love me, right?"

"I-." He only stuttered as he couldn't believe she had just asked him that question. The words hit him hard. Arthur would readily admit he had never been the greatest husband, particularly during these past few years, but he had always tried. _The thought of him ever having done anything to make her question his love? That hurt the most. _"Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?"

"Because," her voice heartbreakingly cracked. "I wouldn't blame you if you didn't."

_Where was this coming from? _"You have completely lost me. Why wouldn't I love you?"

Again, no lead-in; she just came out with it. "Because I'm fat."

"No," he shook his head. "No, you are not."

"Arthur, you're either lying or you're blind. Ever since Mac…"

Now he knew where she was coming from. _But still… _"Honey, you find me a mother who hasn't a little, and I stress little, baby weight after having a child and I'll be very, very impressed. It's normal and it's not even noticeable."

"I notice it. And it's been four months, Arthur."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Four months of putting everyone but yourself first. Babe, you've been running around after me and Mac ever since he came. At least having a baby gives you a perfectly viable excuse to be carrying a little extra weight. Me? I have no excuse whatsoever."

Her small smile made him smile again. Yet hesitancy still lingered. "You still-."

"Joan. You're the most beautiful woman in the world and you never, ever need to worry about me not loving you. OK?" She nodded and he smiled again. "Good. Now, how about momma gets ready for blowing all these stuck-up senators away today whilst daddy day-care looks after the house? Maybe even find a nice, family friendly restaurant for a kinda date night tonight? How does that sound?"

A bigger smile. "Lovely."

"Well, I'm glad…mainly because I've been constructing a shortlist of family friendly restaurant ever since you told me you were pregnant." And tonight, finally, they'd be one of those happy families he'd seen countless of times in restaurants and had wished they were one. Yet as happy as the thought made him, what had just happened? With his strong wife? That had not only caught him completely off guard but had rocked his core.

_What the hell was that? What had just happened?_


	4. Chapter 4

In spite of her protests at the Campbell family home the day before, Joan had not only booked and paid for a week long stay at a luxury bed and breakfast - and had promised to pay for however long Annie decided to stay at the Brentwood B&B - but had also supplied Annie with some of her pre-pregnancy wardrobe. It was a lovely gesture, no doubt about it, and was definitely the new mother in the former DCS, who was fuelling it but it was what was making this hard.

It had never been hard before; it had been anything but, the plans in her head mapped out to precision. She'd ask for a transfer and start over in a new country - although Calder couldn't guarantee her a position in Colombia, he could guarantee a month long placement, as he had put it "a trial", alongside his contact, a man named Ryan McQuiad, and that placement could very well lead to something permanent. Yet in her plans, she had somehow managed to forget just how much of an impact Joan had on her life. Joan was a constant; even despite the fact that Annie had nearly burned bridges with her completely in the past, Joan still had her back and looked out for her. The swanky suite which she was standing in was proof of just that.

If it weren't for Joan, Annie would never have answered the knock at the door - believing, with every right to since the new mother was the only person who knew about the new lodgings and was loyal enough not to tell a single soul besides maybe her husband about them, that it was Joan.

It wasn't.

"Annie, can we talk?" Auggie stood, clutching his cane in front of her.

"Auggie, how did you-?" Then Annie remembered whom she, and her former boyfriend worked for. It went against every single instinct but she invited him in, knowing that if he had been as determined to track her down, he'd be equally as determined to say his piece. "Come in."

"Thank you," he said with a small smile, feeling his way into the room. "I hope you forgive the spy tactics I used-."

"Careful, armchair," she warned, just in time and he managed to reach out to feel it with his hand.

"Thank you."

"Here." She couldn't help herself, taking hold of his arm, just like the old times, and leading him over to the front of the armchair, so he could sit down. He thanked her again and continued with his earlier train of thought as she went back over to the bed to continue packing her case with her inherited clothes, thankful that Joan had had a decent fashion taste.

"Anyway, back to before I was nearly taken out by furniture, I'm sorry for turning up like this but a little birdie told me that you were back in Langley today."

"Is that little birdie's name Eric Barber by any chance?"

"I cannot reveal my sources...but yes."

Annie nodded. She'd passed Barber in the corridor, had a quick chat with him before her meeting with Calder and the DNI. Barber would have then passed on the information to Auggie whom would have had little difficulty finding her, especially as the agency had had a man drive her back.

"Are you packing?" Auggie stood to his feet, just moments after she had zipped up her suitcase which had also been borrowed from the Campbells, and managed to successfully cross the room to stand at the foot of the king size. "Annie," he placed a hand on her arm. "What's going on?"

She pulled away from his touch, hauling the suitcase to the ground before grabbing a rucksack and packing the small amount of personal items she had - a couple of books, a camera and a few tattered family photographs - for carry-on luggage. "I'm packing."

"Yeah, that I guessed. But why?"

"I'm leaving."

"Again, that I also guessed," Auggie muttered. "Where you going?"

"Colombia," Annie replied, her voice cracking as she held a picture of her, Danielle, Chloe and Katia in her hands from Christmas Day a few years back. The Christmas two years back she had missed, weather cancelling her flight. The Christmas just past, they'd be mourning her death. They might not have even celebrated the holiday. Just thinking of Danielle having to hear the news was heartbreaking. Shaking her head, she tried to rid the thought out of her mind. "I'm being placed there."

"How long for?"

"However long they'll have me. But Auggie." Old habits were second nature and, again, she reached out to gently touch his arm. "I need to go now."

"Now?"

"Yeah, my flight is in a few hours."

"The agency is already flying you out? You just returned..."

"You know how the agency works." And also how the agency would work doubly hard for the sort of hero she was being portrayed as. The DNI had shook her hand so violently that she thought he was gonna rip it right off and he had agreed to her requests without any negotiation. A polygraph and a psych eval still needed to be done but he agreed that they could be carried out at their station in Medellin. They'd allow her a few days to get settled, to meet her new handler and to get her bearings in a city she was already half familiar with before they'd take them and, if they went well, she'd get put to work.

"Annie...you need time to readjust-."

"I've had time to readjust. Four months."

"No," he shook his head. "You had four months off the grid; four months of people not knowing whether you were alive; four months of people wondering if you were holding up. You're acting like what you've done isn't a big deal."

"It was my job and the least I could do for Joan and Arthur."

"Maybe but Annie, you still need time. _We _need time."

"We?" _Did he really just? _

"We need to talk Annie."

"About what? How you said that you loved me whilst no doubt saying the same thing to your ex-wife?"

His expression changed completely. "Annie-."

"Don't. Don't even begin to explain Auggie. I know and I don't want to talk about it. I've done enough talking as it is," she grabbed the handle of the suitcase and her rucksack and took a final glance around the room, just to make sure that she hadn't left any of the little that she had come with. "C'mon," she took his arm, "I'll lead you out. I need to go though: there's a car waiting for me."

# # #

Date night had become date afternoon, with their planned dinner becoming lunch.

Joan had called, a little after twelve and had shared the news that, dependant on a few forms and a polygraph that she'd easily pass, she'd be back in her rightful, well deserved position of DCS that she had been so cruelly ripped from. She still had one more meeting to follow before she was free for the day so Arthur had suggested that he'd pick her up but she, being Joan as she was, had told him not to be silly and that she'd meet them at the family friendly restaurant he'd chosen, for their celebratory burger and fries – Arthur was keeping the bottle of champagne for later, after they had put their son to bed for hopefully a better night's sleep than last night.

He heard the clack of heels and looked up to greet his girl who was painfully overdressed for the glorified fast food chain. "Mommy's here," he beamed, tilting his head so his lips were at the perfect angle to meet hers. "Congratulations."

She smiled but didn't look as delighted at the acknowledgement of her new job as she did when she laid eyes on her baby boy in the high chair by his daddy's side. "He been good?"

"Well, saying as Mister-I'm-Gonna-Keep-Mommy-And-Daddy-Up-All-Night has been sleeping for the majority of the time since his beautiful mother has been at work, you could say he's been a little angel," Arthur said, reaching over to his son whose tiny fist clamped around his finger. "Look at him – butter wouldn't melt, would it? Well newsflash mister, the bags under my eyes aren't going anywhere either." Mackenzie seemed to find this funny, laughing whilst Arthur simply shook his head, grinning as he looked up at Joan. "What…?" He asked, seeing the puzzled look on her face.

"Why do you have crayons?"

He glanced down at the crayon in his hand as if he forgot that he had them and forgot about how he put his spy skills to good use by sneaking over to the waiter's station to pick up a pot of them and some paper.

She didn't let him answer. "They're for kids," she said, a smile that, after this morning and whatever the hell that was, was a relief to see tugging at her lips.

Arthur pointed at Mac. "He's a kid."

"Yeah, but you're not," she quipped, sliding down into her chair, placing her bag beside her.

"Ah, but you see. He's my kid and I'm working on behalf of him."

"Yeah, and you're also making a terrible job at it," she muttered, glancing down at the piece of paper that Arthur had spent the past fifteen minutes waiting for her, filling up. Without any prior warning, she pulled the sheet away from him as well as snatching the blue crayon from his hand. "Let's just hope that our son gets my art ability rather than yours. I mean…what the hell is that?"

Arthur leaned over to see what she was questioning. "That's a shark."

"A shark?"

"Yes."

"He's four months old, are you trying to scar him for life?"

"Not at all. I'm just making sure he knows how dangerous those things can be. When he's a little older, I'll get him to recognize how the music from Jaws signifies danger. Start them young and all that," he chuckled, watching Joan flip the page over and start afresh. "A tad unnecessary dear."

"No, totally necessary, dear."

He laughed again, reaching for the menu. "Suppose we better order something, right? What you wanting?"

"Um…I'm good thanks," she said, not looking up as she scribbled, her forehead knitted in concentration.

"You-." Arthur stopped and tried again. "Honey…this doesn't have anything to do with this morning, does it? I told you – you're perfect just the way you are."

She smiled and now met his eyes. "It's got nothing to do with that, I swear. I don't even know what came over me…but no. It's got more to do with the free biscuits that the DNI and the committee kept offering me."

"OK," he nodded, believing her as he too had once been in that position of applying for the DCS position and had too been offered many a complimentary snack. "Well, I'm gonna go for-." He stopped, his phone buzzing in his pocket.

"Who's that?"

He glanced at the dial and at a number he had not expected to see, at least not this early. ""Work…I mean, not work, I-I got an offer. A job offer and I really need to take this, if you don't mind?"

Joan stuttered too, seemingly shocked by the news that he had planned to tell her; he just wasn't expecting this call to come so soon. "Not at all."

"Thank you," he said, kissing her cheek as he left to go and take the call outside.


	5. Chapter 5

It was becoming an unspoken rule not to talk shop in front of their little boy. Arthur returned to the table, apologised again for having to take the call during their lunch and left it at that. For now anyway; the sudden news brought on by that call hanging, and would hang until they got home, over them heavily. Mackenzie's little ears were too innocent to hear of such a world that his parents worked in and, instead, his parents simply picked up where they had been forced to leave at.

"So, I'm not allowed to draw sharks but you're allowed to draw tigers?" Arthur muttered as he leaned over the table to see how Joan had been busying herself for the past fifteen minutes. "Tell me, what's it like sitting on your high horse, momma?"

Biting down on her lip, she struggled to hide the smile that was spreading across her lips. "Pretty darn good, thanks for asking. But, at least my picture has a point."

"Which is?"

She spun the sheet of paper around, tapping it with a finger. "It's an actual picture with a little thought put behind it unlike your random, funny shaped shark floating in mid-air. See?"

Arthur did see; saw an entire miniature jungle landscape on the sheet of A4 paper. It was good, actually borderline impressive, but it made him feel guilty that he had ultimately given her all that time to create that picture. He was already making a hash of fatherhood again by failing to put fatherhood first. "Very nice...I'm sure if you clear your plate they'll give you a lollipop for your efforts-. Hey!"

"Sorry," Joan grinned, although it was clear that she was anything but sorry for driving her heel into his shin.

"You see what your mommy's doing to me?" Arthur chuckled, glancing at his son, whose baby blues were fixed on his father. Unable to help himself, Arthur scooted his chair closer so he could hoist Mac out of the high chair and onto his lap.

"You gonna start sharing him soon?"

"Me? You got to have him for nine months-."

"Closer to eight actually."

"Fine," he sighed. "Eight months-."

"Well, mister couldn't wait three weeks so..."

Arthur rolled his eyes, although he was infinitely grateful that mister hadn't been willing to wait those three weeks. Grateful back then as, when Mac took it upon himself to come early, there had been that little bit of uncertainty that Henry wouldn't be brought down in time and incarceration loomed, meaning that he had been blessed with the opportunity to meet his son in case it did indeed happen. Of course, Henry Wilcox had been taken down and Mac's early arrival simply meant that Arthur had been blessed with simply knowing his son for three weeks more weeks. "Anyway, in answer to your question, I am not gonna start sharing him anytime soon."

"It's a freaking boys club now, isn't it?"

"Yep but don't worry...we both love momma very, very-." _Damn it. He should have left the little guy in the high chair after all. _"Very much."

Joan was both a spy and his wife; she easily noticed the change in his voice the second he too had noticed just how bad his timing was. "And I'm sure you two do, but tough luck daddy. If you refuse to share him then I refuse to change his diapers. Plus, you don't have the whole I-Was-Stabbed-In-A-Barn excuse any more."

_Damn it. _Although, saying that, he was glad that they could make jokes about the attempts on their lives. Gallows humour it was, but it was also a coping mechanism. Truthfully, they had gotten lucky. Arthur was lucky to survive, lucky that his call got through in time, not only to save Joan's and their child's life, but also to save his own, for Joan had been the one to get his call traced so that an ambulance could save his life. He was just downright lucky to be here, let alone to be blessed with a beautiful baby boy. He couldn't, and would never complain, about changing a few diapers. "Honey, I'd love to," he said, not a single word a lie, "But I'm pretty sure that the changing room is in the little girls' room."

She nodded, already getting to her feet. "Fine but just remember when we get home, the changing room is communal."

"Got ya," Arthur nodded, passing Mac to his mother, who welcomed him with a smile that quickly faded as it her as suddenly as it did him that their boy needed a change.

"Great...bet you're feeling exceptionally lucky that the changing room is in the little girls' room."

He grinned. "Yep."

When they returned to the table, they'd ordered and got their food some ten minutes later. The unspoken rule in full effect, they were like every other family., laughing and cooing over their kid. Joan, who had claimed not to be that hungry earlier, still managed a salad and half of Arthur's fries that he gave up defending by trying to hit her hand away every time she tried to steal some - revenge, no doubt, for all the times he had done that to her in restaurants on earlier dates. They got home around three and Arthur put a now sleepy Mackenzie down, tying the free helium balloon to the rocking chair before he quietly left the nursery and headed downstairs.

"So, when were you gonna tell me?" Joan was already downstairs, changed into an over sized T-shirt and a pair of joggers, sitting on the couch. "You were gonna tell me, yeah?"

He sat down next to her, rested a hand on her leg. "Honey, I was I swear..."

"But?"

"But," he sighed. "But things happened way too quickly. I only found out about this job this morning; in fact I got the call literally the second you left."

"Hmm-mm, is that so?"

Her sudden change in demeanour struck him - it seemed just like this morning. "I swear that is so. I promise that I was gonna tell you - I was just waiting until we got home. Why would I hide something like that?"

"I-I-." She started again, this time not bothering to look him in the eye. "So what is it?"

"The job?" He asked and she nodded. "It's a job in the private sector - a security company ran by some guy I know. It's...it's fantastic opportunity. I'll be working with the agency again, albeit as a Green Badge, but still. The pay is decent and the hours are extremely flexible."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that..." She nodded. "But what about our son?"

Now it was his turn to nod. "Believe me, he's the only thing that I've been thinking about when considering this offer."

"And what conclusion have you come to?" She found his eyes again.

He took her hand. "That this is also a fantastic opportunity for him too. Because-. Listen honey," he said, firmly as he saw her lips move to object. "Listen, I know it's gonna be tough for us to leave him with a nanny but this will be for his future. This job won't be a long-term thing and I'm only gonna be doing it for him so that he'll be able to afford any college that he wants if, of course, he wants to go to one. Plus, plus this job will provide us more money which means, that if you want of course, you can take early retirement - I certainly will be and we can help him with his homework, help him with his school projects and, most importantly, help him get into any college as well as having some time to ourselves. I have thought about this, greatly."

More nods as she seemingly took it all in. "And have you made a decision?"

"No. I wanted to talk this through with you first. You're Mackenzie's mother and, most importantly, you're my wife. What...what do you think?"

"I think..." Her forehead crumpled as she thought it through herself. "I think...that this is your call. Because I'm still not even sure that I want to be back at work. Because I..." She paused to rub her tired eyes. "I miss Mac like crazy and I'm absolutely, terrified that-. No."

"Joan?" She could shake her head all she wanted, but he wanted her to continue. "Terrified of what? C'mon honey...it's alright."

Now her own eyes were filling up. It didn't seem like this morning any more; it was just like this morning. "That something is gonna happen to Mac and I know you're here, looking after him but what if he cries just because he wants his mom? What if he misses me and-." She collapsed into Arthur's arms.

"Hey...hey," he tried to hush her. "I won't take the job, OK? I'm more than happy to stay here and look after him and I'll, _we'll_, call you everyday, alright?"

"No," she mumbled into his chest. "Take the job."

"But Joan-."

"No," she broke his hold, wiping away her tears with the palm of her hand. "I'm being selfish. Take it...for Mac."

"I..." _Don't understand? Hell, that didn't even begin to cover it._

"I'm gonna go and have a lie down," she mumbled, getting to her feet. "Being kept up all night takes it toll. There's bottles ready if Mac wakes up."

"Sure," Arthur nodded, still holding her hand and not letting go until he smiled and said. "Get some rest. I love you."

A faint smile danced across her lips. "Love you too," she replied before heading upstairs, leaving Arthur alone for the second time that day to wonder just what the hell was going on and, for the first time, considered that Joan, whom had taken so naturally to motherhood, might finally be struggling with it.


End file.
